


Self-Insert

by robinwritesallthethings



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dark Romance, F/M, Language, Political Drama, Self-Insert, Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 07:22:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13922190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthethings/pseuds/robinwritesallthethings
Summary: Robin Ballard thinks she’s dreaming when she wakes up in the world of one of her favorite TV shows. Once she realizes that she’s really there, what will she do?





	Self-Insert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin wakes up in Westeros.

“Shit,” I mutter, blinking rapidly as I sit up, trying to clear my head.

“Where the fuck am I?” I can tell I’m not in my bed. I can also tell that I’m outside, but that’s impossible. My apartment is on the sixth floor, and I live alone, so there’s no way this can be a joke someone is playing on me.

I sleepwalked a few times when I was a kid, but never since. Maybe I sleepwalked my way here?

Wherever here is.

I stand up, trying to get my bearings, thanking my past self for deciding to wear pajama pants to bed last night.

I frown as I realize that I’m in the woods. There are no woods anywhere near where I live in Texas. What the hell is going on?

I stand still for a moment and really listen.

I can’t hear anything you would expect to hear. No cars, no hum of electricity.

There’s only the breeze and the birds.

And water. I can hear water.

My brief sojourn as a Girl Scout really did not prepare me for this, but heading towards the water seems like a smart idea.

As I walk, it occurs to me that I have nothing on me. No ID, no money, no phone.

It also occurs to me that I should be more panicked about all of this. Shouldn’t I?

Maybe I’m dreaming. I mean, I am in my pajamas in an unfamiliar place, and there’s no one else here.

I stop and pinch myself experimentally.

Nothing happens, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. I shrug and keep walking, thinking that I probably look absolutely ridiculous. I’m wearing just my pajama pants and tank top with no bra. I’ve got on socks, but no shoes, and my hair is a disaster.

I definitely hope this is a dream.

I see light and the end of the trees. Thankfully, it looks like I wasn’t that far into the forest, wherever the forest is.

I pause as I reach the edge. It might be smart to see what’s out there before I go blundering into whatever it is, huh?

I hug one of the trees, peeking around the thick trunk.

The landscape I’m looking at is lush and green. There are no signs of modern civilization at all. There’s a large road to my right. It’s maintained well, but it’s made of dirt. The river in front of me is huge, clear, and blue.

Then I lift my head and shift my focus a little further towards the horizon, and I see it.

King’s Landing.

“Well, fuck me standing,” I whisper, hugging the tree a little tighter.

At least now I know that this absolutely has to be a dream. Obviously, _Game of Thrones_ isn’t real.

It certainly feels real at the moment, though. The Red Keep towers over the rest of the city, flashing crimson as the sun rises over Blackwater Bay and hits its walls. I can see the startlingly white Sept of Baelor as well, shining in the morning light.

I must be at the very top of the Kingswood, right in front of the Blackwater Rush.

Going with the idea that this is all a dream, my mind naturally wanders to not just where I am, but when I am.

The Sept is still there, so that’s a clue. And I can tell by the lack of chill in the air and the bright green of everything around me that it isn’t winter yet.

Plus it’s all intact and not ravaged by war.

I grimace as I wonder which version of this story I’m in. The books? The show? Both?

Either way, I can’t stay hiding in the woods forever. I assume I’ll wake up at some point, but while I’m here, I may as well explore. If something bad happens, I’ll just leave sooner rather than later, right?

It’s too bad that my dream brain didn’t decide to make me look like I fit in more.

Maybe I can do something about that. There must be some homes nearby, or a few camps. And I might overhear some news that tells me more about when I am.

I stay in the trees, moving slowly towards the Roseroad. I try to be quiet, more out of practicality than urgency. I’m not really worried, after all.

Something must be on my side. After a few minutes of walking, I find a small clearing that’s close to the road with a little cottage in it. It appears to be empty. There’s an animal pen on the side of it, but it clearly hasn’t been used in a long time, and the garden by the front door hasn’t been cared for, though some things are still managing to grow there.

It’s odd. Why would a house so close to the road like this be abandoned? It seems like someone would have taken up residence, considering that it’s got four walls and a good location.

But that doesn’t really matter to me, does it?

I slip inside to look around.

The first thing I notice is the oddly lovely smell. Dried herbs hang from the ceiling, so I assume they’re responsible. Other than that, the place is quite austere.

A trunk rests at the foot of the bed, so I open it. Inside, there’s a complete set of simple clothes, including shoes. Hopefully they’ll fit me.

On the other side of the trunk is a book resting on a package wrapped in some sort of rough cloth. Burlap, maybe. Do they have burlap in Westeros?

I pick up the book and open it, wondering if I’ll even be able to read it.

A note flutters out from the first page. I bend to pick it up and my eyes widen as I realize that I can definitely read this, at least.

What it says is even more surprising.

_Robin,_

_It’s not a dream. Use what’s in this chest on your journey._

_King Robert Baratheon has just left for Winterfell._

Well, that’s helpful. That means I’m basically at the beginning of the story, though I still don’t know which version I’m in.

There’s one more line of the note.

_If you follow your instincts, you can win the game of thrones._

I laugh. Right. If only I were that smart. Even knowing everything, I don’t know how that would work.

I wonder who left me the note, of course, but it isn’t signed. It’s probably not a mystery I’m going to solve, but I keep it between my fingers as I flip through the book, which I’m shocked to find I can read. To me, it’s just English, but in this universe, I suppose it’s the Common Tongue.

The book is mostly recipes for herbal remedies. I recognize the entry for moon tea, which can prevent pregnancy or cause an abortion. A few at the back seem more exotic, but you never know what could be useful here.

I slip the note back into the book, setting it on the bed and opening the package.

Inside is a glistening dagger. It’s small, but the sheathe is made of silver and decorated with emeralds, so it’s clearly of great value.

As I lift it and carefully pull the blade free of the case, I see the ripples in the dusky metal and realize that it must be made of Valyrian steel.

“I feel like I’m in a video game,” I say out loud to myself, just to break the silence.

Then I spread the burlap out on the bed, taking off my pajamas, folding them, and laying them in the center of the fabric. After a moment of debate, I leave my underwear there too. May as well be authentic.

I don’t really believe the note, obviously. I’ll wake up soon.

I pull on the makeshift undergarments that are with the clothes I was left. They’re kind of like shorts, and they fit me perfectly. Dream magic, I assume.

I pull on the leggings, dress, and boots. They’re definitely made for summer weather, so at least I won’t be too hot.

I find a flap sewn into the dress near the waist to hide the dagger in, which I’m grateful for. I’d get fucking shanked in an alley if anyone in King’s Landing saw that I had it.

I unpin my hair and leave the accessories with my pajamas, folding everything back into the burlap and stashing it back in the chest. I can always use this as a kind of rendezvous point if I need to run somewhere later.

There was a green ribbon with the clothes, and a comb. I untangle my hair, pulling it all over my shoulder and tying it, plucking a sprig of mint from the dried herbs on the ceiling and tying it in for a nice smell.

I check my reflection in a small mirror on the cabin’s wall by the bed. “Not bad,” I say to the empty room. I mean, I’ll have to look better than at least a good number of the people in King’s Landing, right? I took a bath last night, so I’m clean, and I have all my teeth.

There’s a simple bag to put everything else I need in. I stash what I arrived with in the chest, then walk back outside.

The Roseroad should lead me right to the River Gate, and then I’ll have to find the rest of my way from there. It doesn’t seem as daunting now that I won’t stick out as much.

The note said to follow my instincts. I figure it’s my dream brain sending me a message, so I’m planning to listen.

I’m going to find the one person in _Game of Thrones_ who I most want to meet.

Petyr Baelish.


End file.
